Life in present tense: Popcorn makes everything better

Chaos as usual on the Dhaka highway. Almost makes
you crave for the empty roads of hartal days.

For the past few weeks, Bangladesh has slid back into its normal routine. The political chaos died down surprisingly fast after the election, and people leaped at the opportunity to reacquaint themselves with peace. Violence was just one problem; the threat of violence affected a much higher number. Indirect consequences included:

Banks stopped refilling ATMs, and outside of Dhaka, some banks refused to let people cash checks
Gas stations lacked fuel
Farmers couldn’t get their produce to the markets, so food prices went up quickly
Fertilizer, crucial during planting season, couldn’t be delivered everywhere
People stopped going out for fun and only shopped for necessities; restaurants and shops were hit hard. Many struggled to make their rent and pay workers.

Experts estimate that the political violence and strikes cost the economy $6 billion last year.

I live within the diplomatic zone and work just beyond its border, so my life was less affected than most. The main change was that my life reduced to a tiny radius, encompassing just the office and the diplomatic area (thankfully North End Coffee shop was within there). So for two months, I barely saw Dhaka, much less traveled beyond. My only foray out of my designated “safe zone” was to go see Catching Fire at the movie theatre one morning right before Christmas.

The major highway to leave Dhaka to the north, reduced to
a multi-level pedestrian walkway!

So before things can heat back up, I’m trying to spend some time outside of Dhaka. Last weekend, Shazzad and I went to a wedding in Tongi, a town just north of Dhaka. It’s only 20 miles, so without traffic, the drive from my house takes less than an hour. We somehow managed to time our drive so that we were stuck during the Friday Muslim prayer (Juma) just near the site of Ijthema, the second largest religious gathering in the world (first is Khub Mela in Uttar Pradesh). Approximately five million Muslims (mostly men and mostly South Asian) come for Ijtema each year. Many come from far-flung villages using all sorts of local transport (benge benge). When necessary, they walk and climb into the back of pick-up trucks and the tops of buses.

The bus doesn't even stop to let people
get situated up top.

During juma, many roads in Dhaka close to make space for makeshift prayer areas for men (women pray at home). So this was like the perfect storm—we had driven essentially to the biggest Islamic gathering at the most important prayer time—and the result was a terrible traffic jam. We turned off the engine and just sat still for over an hour. One of the things that amuses me about Dhaka is that, anytime and anywhere, you can usually get popcorn. A guy came by selling popcorn, so we bought some.

Popcorn: a comfort food for traffic jams.

I had skipped breakfast to make room for delicious wedding food, but my blood sugar was dropping and Hangry (hunger-induced anger) Maria was not going to improve the ride. A few minutes later, another vendor came by with homemade potato chips, so we bought some of those too. Our friends who had taken a motorcycle called us—they left the coffee shop an hour after we did, drove on the wrong side of the street to avoid the jam where we were stuck—and were waiting for us in the village. Finally, traffic began to crawl and we inched through Uttara, over the Tongi Bridge, past Ijthema, and turned off onto a side road that would take us to the village.

We turn off the main road onto this side street. Suddenly
the world seems much calmer.

I hate traffic, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen a jam like this, it was easier to take this one a bit more lightly. Also I was sightseeing! It’s unlikely that I would ever find myself purposefully attending massive religious gathering, so driving through it to get to a wedding was an unexpected sociological opportunity. I found the number of people on the road fantastic—it was as if they had held the Boston Marathon and the NC state fair on a major highway on Memorial Day weekend. Total insanity, even by Dhaka standards. The image that will stay with me was: on the top of many buses, the relatively dangerous seats reserved for those that want to pay a cheaper fare, guys were riding along, recording a video of the experience on their smart phones. It’s a sight that reminds me that the world is changing.

An amazing wedding feast that's totally worth the drive!

The wedding hosts had prepared food for 1,000 people, just to be on the safe side. When we arrived at 4:00, the afternoon sun was already starting to fade, but there was still plenty of food waiting for us. The groom’s family had slaughtered a cow and chickens that morning. It was fresh and expertly cooked with the perfect combination of spices. It was delicious, and I ate two full plates worth.

With the beautiful and happy
new bride and groom.

The groom's family and the North End family (which I
claim to belong to!)

After lunch we took pictures with the new bride and groom, met their families, and then began our house calls. It turns out that a lot of the North End staff are from this village, and since North End’s owner had also come for the wedding, many families wanted to meet him and invite him into their homes. We were along for the ride, but that didn’t stop us from visiting with everyone, especially once they pulled out plates of delicious fruits and sweets.

Heading up the walkway to our first home visit.

Enjoying the winter weather and the calm of the village.

At one home, we met a woman who has been a teacher at a BRAC primary school since 1994. She was talking about how many external guests—from local ministers to foreign donors—have come to her school, and it was fun to hear her version since I’m usually on the visiting side. It’s always nice to randomly meet someone who is proud to be part of the BRAC family.

Another home down the road that we also visited.

Before we knew it, night was falling and the blood thirsty mosquitoes demanded their own feast. It was time to cross back through the Ijthema traffic. This time we got lucky and the drive took under three hours.